


I've Been Trying To Keep My Grip, Yeah, I Think I'm Over This (DOMINICK "SONNY" CARISI)

by RockWithItWriting



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Law & Order: Special Victims Unit RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 16:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7538953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hadn’t meant to fall in love.</p><p>Especially not with her.</p><p>She was volatile, aggressive and sometimes she did things without thinking.</p><p>Maybe that’s why he loved her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I've Been Trying To Keep My Grip, Yeah, I Think I'm Over This (DOMINICK "SONNY" CARISI)

He hadn’t meant to fall in love.

Especially not with her.

She was volatile, aggressive and sometimes she did things without thinking.

Maybe that’s why he loved her.

Six months after realizing that what he felt, the anger and the happiness and the sadness all rolled into one, was love and Dominick “Sonny” Carisi Jr. still wasn’t sure why he was in love with a woman like Lola Marybeth Breann, all bark and all bite, all snarky answers but soft looks to the victims.

She was perfect for Special Victims.

Lola was the definition of sugar and spice; Sonny hadn’t really seen her sugar side, but he was sure it was there. He watched her speak with the victims, even the working girls, and he had seen the soft smile she reserved only for them, the way that she laid her hand gently on their backs and let them cry into her shoulder, leaving mascara and eyeliner behind on her usually pristine men’s dress shirts.

Sonny noticed a lot of things about her. He blamed it on being in love with her.

But he also didn’t.

He blamed it on the fact that she called him Dominick instead of Carisi, or if they were talking to a suspect together that she called him Sonny. Sonny was less threatening, less of a tough name and more of a trusting name.

Lola was the only one to call him _either_ of those.

In fact, Sonny was pretty sure that she hated using last names to get anyone’s attention. She called Amaro by his first name when Sonny still called him Amaro, she used _Amanda_ and _Fin_ and _Olivia_. But never Sonny, alway _Dominick_. And she always made the team call her Lola, never Breann, even though they called each other by last names.

Sonny always thought it seemed impersonal, and maybe that’s what she thought, too. But he would never know because even though they were partners, they weren’t partners. Not like Rollins and Fin, Nick and Olivia. They weren’t friends, merely coworkers and Sonny was pretty sure that she couldn’t stand him.

Which, you know, was a problem because he was head over freakin’ heels for her. Everything she did was like catnip to Sonny and he wasn’t sure why. Was it her eyes? The flat gray was certainly enticing because he had read the description in novels before, but he had never seen it before Lola. Was it her hair? Sonny always had a thing for chicks with black hair and Lola seemed to pull it off so well, the inky darkness of her hair conflicting well with her smooth, pale skin.

He knew it was wrong to be in love with her, and staring at her over the lip of his beer certainly wasn’t helping. And- you know, it wasn’t even beer. It was water turned amber with food dye, courtesy of Fin behind the bar.

He was supposed to look interested and he knew he was doing his job.

It didn’t help that Lola was wearing the sexiest thing he’d ever seen on a woman, and that was saying something. A black bra covered with a mesh long sleeve that showed off the tattoos on her arms Sonny only dreamed about tracing with his fingers and ripped skinny jeans. She made the attire look classy, but still sensual.

And it was working.

The man they were trying to catch, literally all of the detectives at SVU, was locked on to her. She was dancing, grinning and playing the part of a drunk sorority girl while Amaro, Amaro of all people, looped his arms around her waist and pretended to be the handsome older hunk trying to get the girl wasted.

They were both playing their parts well.

And, yeah, maybe the pit of cold in Sonny’s stomach was called jealousy, but who cared? He could have played the part even though he was nearly half a decade younger than Amaro, he could have wrapped his arm around her waist, pressed a kiss that didn’t mean anything to her on her neck. He could have easily dressed in some stupid polo and jeans that were too tight, but Olivia chose Amaro.

Sonny tried to look nonchalant as he raised his arm to his mouth, letting Olivia know under his breath that their man was approaching, that he was cutting in, and then he swallowed the rest of the amber water. He was supposed to amble toward the restroom, because the man would take Lola to the women’s restroom, and as soon as Olivia gave the go he would burst through the door, gun waving, voice strong as be belted out _NYPD, hands in the air!_

He wasn’t sure what to do with himself in the men’s room as he waited for the call, so Sonny settled on looking at himself in the mirror. Amaro joined him a few moments later and Sonny tried to stop the slow burn of anger in his forearms, the scowl on his face turning to a look of stress that mirror Nick’s.

“I don’t like this,” It was the first thing Sonny had said to Amaro all night, but that wasn’t unusual. They were strangers in the bar, not coworkers. “I don’t like using Lola as bait.” Amaro began to wash his hands so it at least sounded like they were using the bathroom for it’s original functions.

“Yeah, do you think I like it?”

Sonny didn’t want to tell Amaro that, yeah, he thought that the older detective did like it. He liked dancing with Lola, smudging her dark eye makeup with his fingers as he tried to kiss her and she pretended that she didn’t want to kiss him. Sonny knew that any man, or person for that matter, would want to dance with Lola, would want to kiss her like Sonny did. Both detectives were terse as they waited, waited for Olivia to call over the radio that she needed the muscle in the bathroom.

_“Now!”_

Sonny was the first one there, his boot smashing through the door to the woman’s restroom and his voice screaming for the man to drop his knife.

Lola had him kneeling, waiting for Sonny to apprehend him. He felt sick when he saw the beading of blood dripping down her neck, the bruise forming on her lip as it bled, too, but he couldn’t do anything about it- say comfort her- because he was too busy hauling the rapist to his feet, reading the scumbag his Miranda’s. He was too busy trying not to look at how Amaro wipe the blood away from her lip, asked her if she was okay.

And, okay, so maybe Sonny pushed the man in the car a little too hard. Maybe he drove a little too fast, booked the guy a little too angrily and slammed him down in the interrogation room a little too roughly.

Maybe he was too ruffled over seeing Amaro and Lola so close together, but who cared? Nobody on the team would ask him about it because nobody even noticed that he was off. Was off the right word? No, pissed was the right word.

Sonny was pissed and he had no right to be.

The anger that Sonny was holding helped him get the confession and then Olivia sent him home because she could see his hands shaking even if he had his dimples on full display, slapping Amaro on the back and congratulating Lola.

“You didn’t do bad work yourself, Dominick.” The way her voice said his name, low and husky in the way she spoke, sent a thrill through his body that made him feel sick to his stomach because it shouldn’t have. He was nearly in tears, ashamed at the thought that someone who didn’t want to look at him twice would make his body react like that.

“Thanks, Lola, but you did all the heavy lifting.” He knew it was late and he should have been getting home because it was only Tuesday, only the second day of the workweek. He needed sleep, needed rest to collar other sickos but there he was, begging for admiration from a woman he thought, no he knew, he was in love with.

It was sad, really, and it only made Sonny want to go get drunk and then collapse into bed for a night of alcohol-fueled nightmares.

“Thank you,” Lola graciously accepted the compliment and fiddled with a pen. The squad room was silent, bar the shuffling of paperwork as the detectives tried to tie up the case for Rafael Barba. Sonny wasn’t sure what he was going to say next because he wasn’t really good with talking to Lola. Whether it was the way she looked at him, full attention, or the way that Sonny felt that she was really listening to him, not just hearing him; he wanted to talk to her for hours.

Too bad she didn’t feel the same way. Sonny knew that she was just humoring him, merely being polite and gentle to the puppy dog of the team. “Do you have plans tonight?” The comment was offhanded, accompanied by the rustling of paperwork as she flipped to another page. Sonny nearly choked on air, was she asking him for his plans?

No- it wasn’t what he thought it was. She wasn’t asking because she wanted to do something with him, she was asking to break the silence. Lola was being polite, making conversation and Sonny should probably reply because he was staring at her with his jaw hanging open and she was looking at him with the cool gray eyes and a cocked eyebrow.

“Nothin’ really,” Sonny finally replied, dropping his eyes to the paper, “I ain’t got anyone to go home to, so I figured I’d go home to a nice bottle of whiskey.” It was embarrassing because Sonny was pretty sure that Lola had a life, unlike himself.

“Hm,” She hummed, “Sounds nice,” He wasn’t sure if it was sarcastic or if it was genuine but either way Sonny would drink off the way it made him feel later that night. Lola wasn’t the type to fish, so that’s why Sonny didn’t even think that it was what she was doing. To anyone else it was obvious- she wanted him to invite her over for a nightcap, to explain the way she closed herself off at work.

Whatever her motive, it was lost on Sonny. He thought the conversation was over because that was usually the extent of their conversations; Lola would mutter something under her breath, Sonny would reply, Lola would snark something vaguely offensive and that would be that. In fact, the way they spoke to one another reminded him of the way he and Rafael spoke; sharp jabs that weren’t meant to be jabs, but with Lola he wasn’t sure if they were meant to be jabs or not.

Everything about that woman confused Sonny, down to the way she made him feel.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Sonny pressed the pen to the paper so hard it broke and splattered all over his bare arm. For the first time in nearly a year Sonny was glad he made his shirts unnecessarily wrinkled by rolling up the sleeves, “Shit!” He stood, toppling his chair and neatly avoiding Lola’s question. She was there with a rag that she kept in her desk for bloody victims, wiping the ink away in one fell swoop. She was standing close, too close, and Sonny found it hard to breath as she looked up at him with wide eyes and an expression he had never seen before.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Lola repeated. Sonny knew she was enjoying watching his face light up red, hearing him stutter with brows pulled tight together.

“I don’t mind, but do yah really want to?” A stupid question for a brain that wasn’t working because she was too close, whatever scent she was wearing was too prominent. Sonny’s head was working overtime just to try and remember his own name. He hadn’t thought of what he would do when they got back to his apartment, when they’ve both gotten drunk. He hadn’t thought of what he would say to her when he was alone because they barely spoke when they were in work.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to,” He nodded, “I can catch a cab back to my place after, but I need something to take the edge off after he hit me so hard,” Her voice wasn’t as professional as it usually was and Sonny was hyper aware of her hand still on his bare arm, of the fact that they were still standing too close, still looking at each other in the eyes and Sonny’s stomach jumped with the feeling that it took him six months to identify.

“I’m sorry Olivia didn’t give us the signal faster,” Sonny didn’t meant to confess that, didn’t mean for it to tumble out of his mouth but it did and he was going to have to deal with it, “I mean, I’m sorry I didn’t get in their before he hit you.”

Lola shook her head, “It’s not your fault,” She finally said, the silence around the room barely broken by her whisper. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to lean down and take her face in his hands but he couldn’t.

Not while he was sober.

“I don’t care if you join me,” Sonny finally said. Seeing the look of surprise on her face, he felt a small spark of victory. Sonny hadn’t seen her facade break, the one that they all kept up when they were watching an interrogation or when they were waiting for a lead after a long day of jack shit. “But I don’t let a lady go home drunk and alone. My Ma raised me better than that.” Lola nodded and seemed to understand. She stepped back and walked to her desk to fetch her jacket, looping it over her shoulders. It was a plain black hoodie but it made her form look so good, Sonny had to control his thoughts as he led her to his car.

Yeah, his car. Sonny was from Staten Island, so that’s why he had a car but nobody really understood why he brought it with him to Manhattan. He was sure glad he did, though because when Lola saw it she smirked in a way that sent the thrill of validation through him.

“I never thought it would be you that would own a car, Dominick. I always thought that it would be Olivia.” Sonny unlocked the car door and dropped into the driver’s side, trying not to think about the fact that Lola would be next to him for the drive back to his apartment, the fact that she had basically agreed to stay the night.

Would he give her the couch or would he take it? He could sleep on the floor in his room, the warmest room in the house, but that would be weird.

Sonny’s whole goal was to be suave, not weird. Not strange, not like his normal self, like Sonny Carisi but more like his birth name.

Dominick was a different person, more sturdy than Sonny, more professional.

More likable.

Dominick wasn’t eager to be appraised for his right-doings. He didn’t purse his lips to try and hide his offense. Dominick was who Sonny wanted to be, but didn’t have the balls to be. Sonny knew that Lola didn’t know the difference, didn’t know she was lying to herself and everyone else when she called him Dominick.

“I wanted to bring some Staten Island with me,” Sonny admitted after a long silence filled with the sound of New York traffic, the street lamps shining down and casting shadows just the right way over Lola’s face. “I left the place where I was growing up, but I didn’t want to leave it all behind; you know?” She nodded, as if she did know.

“I understand. I never wanted to leave home, either. But I did.”

“And now you’re here,” Sonny’s tone was something akin to a joke, but it was lost on the woman in the passenger seat. “With us- with the team.” Sonny caught himself- there was no us. There was the team, and then there was him. He wasn’t exactly their favorite person and he didn’t get invited out with the others, so how could he call it us? There wasn’t an us. There was a team, and there was Sonny.

“You know you’re on the team, right? You can say us.” Sonny shook his head and his car approached the road that his apartment was on. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, lips pursing into the pout that Rafael once told him was childhood. “Or, do you not believe that you’re on the team?”

“I’m not,” Sonny finally said, parking the car but not wishing to end the conversation. “It’s not as simple as you may think.”

“What if I don’t think it’s simple?” Lola finally asked, the silence after the engine puttered off suffocating Sonny. “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re the odd man out.”  
  
“I am the odd man out,” Sonny jerked his door open, slamming it behind him. He hadn’t meant to be so disrespectful, nor did he actually want to slam the door. But she still followed him, jogging to keep up with his long legs. Sonny took the stairs to the second floor, Lola near on foot. He was surprised she was still there, still ready for that drink, still being civil with Sonny after he disrespected her like he did.

So, like his Ma taught him, when he unlocked the door and allowed him in, Sonny apologized. “I didn’t mean to lash out. You hit me in a hard spot,” Lola brushed past Sonny and took in his apartment, hands dug in her pockets as she nodded her head.

“No, I understand it, Dominick.” Her voice was sad, a different emotion than anything Sonny had seen, “I’ve known you haven’t felt too included as of late. I can tell you want to come out with us but you never do. If it makes you feel any better, they only invite me because of who my brother is.”

Sonny decided that he wanted a drink, even though he had been craving one all day, but he wasn’t sure if Lola actually wanted to drink with him.

Would Dominick want to drink?

Sonny decided that yes, even Dominick would want to drink. Instead of replying to the woman running her finger around a frame that hung on his wall he got two glasses down from the cabinet, his best whiskey- which wasn’t very good, but cheap and enough to get him drunk- and then he turned to find Lola leaning against the counter opposite that of what he was working on. She had her arms crossed over her chest and Sonny felt his body flush under her gray gaze. She had put her hair up in the moments he had his back turned and it suited her; the way her jawline was more angular, her cheekbones more prominent. Her hair pulled back gave Lola a youthfulness their job took away.

He thought it suited her and Sonny bit back the words that would tell her to wear it like that more often.

“How much do you want?” He almost said her name but he was afraid it would be like poison on his tongue and everything that he was thinking, everything that he had been feeling. Lola took the empty glass and filled it to the rim before passing the bottle back to Sonny.

He mirrored her actions before gesturing to the living room, “Do you want to go into the living room?”

“No.” The answer was simple and her voice was terse as she gazed into her glass, “Why don’t you come out when you’re invited?” Sonny had to debate on whether or not he wanted to answer, or how he was going to answer.

“Do you really want me to go with you?” It was a rhetorical question but as Lola’s head whipped up and her eyes met his, Sonny regretted it. “The others don’t. They’re just inviting me because I’m there and it would be rude not to. To agree would be to invade on their time with each other.” He hadn’t meant to say that much but, there it was; hanging in the air for Lola to interpret, to speak about, to reply to. “I’m nothing but the overeager detective with a bad mustache to them.”

Lola tipped her head back and downed the rest of the whiskey, surprising Sonny. “Dominick,” She sighed and seemed to be searching for words.

That was a first because he had only seen her struggle for words on the stand, when she was trying to avoid slandering the person on trial, when she was trying to put the last nail on the coffin without cursing or saying something inappropriate.

“Dominick, you need to get over yourself.”

Okay.

_So._

That wasn’t what Sonny was expecting. He was expecting empathy, something akin to sympathy. He wasn’t expecting her jaw to jump, her eyes to blaze. He wasn’t expecting Lola to push off of the counter and push a finger into Sonny’s chest.

“Just because you think they do not like you, doesn’t mean that they actually don’t like you. I know for a fact that Nick and Fin are very fond of you. As much as it pains me to admit it, you’re not that bad.” It was the closest to a compliment that Sonny had received from Lola and he couldn’t help but grin, nodding.

“So you talk about me with Amaro and Fin, then? Who else do you talk about me with?” It was Lola’s turn to be shocked, her turn to take a step back before she refilled her whiskey and downed the glass in one drink.

Sonny was worried that he offended Lola when she turned her back on him and leaned against the counter with one arm. He was worried he offended her when she turned slowly and refused to look Sonny in the eye. He was worried he offended her when her boots thudded against the tile of his kitchen and she stopped just before him, staring up at him with the eyes he spent months admiring from across the squad room.

“I try not to talk about you to anyone. I’m afraid they’ll think I’m _fond_ ,” The word is accompanied by a sneer that Sonny was used to seeing on Rafael’s face, “Of you.” The alcohol was already burning through his veins, igniting a grin on his face and relaxing the tension of his muscles. It was placing confidence within him that he didn’t have.

“Maybe you are fond of me,” Sonny was brazen enough to mutter, “Maybe you do care about me. You’d be the first.”

“Are you sure?” Lola didn’t try to refute his earlier statement, “I don’t think I’m the first person to think that your hair and your suits fit you… Perfectly.” It was a compliment and Sonny was waiting for the backhanded part of the compliment. It never came and he watched as Lola’s face as it opened up and lost the closed off, protective look she usually wore.

Was that what she was like outside of work? Was she open to emotions, open to banter? Sonny wasn’t sure but he knew he had to rib her back before he stared at her too long, watched her eyes dilate to a point that the gray was nearly taken over by her pupil.

He knew what that meant, but Sonny didn’t want to believe it. Dominick? Dominick was all over that, but he knew he couldn’t act on it. (Mostly because Dominick wasn’t a separate person, just a way for Sonny to feel shit about himself in front of Lola.)

“I have them tailored,” Sonny finally managed to say, “Special. So they fit me… Perfectly.” And, yeah, Sonny didn’t have to learn forward with a smirk on his face, didn’t have to lay a hand on the side of Lola’s arm, didn’t have to grin at her but he did.

And he was glad he did.

He had never seen Lola flustered, nor had he seen her skin anything less than porcelain and watching it light up red was amazing to watch. She didn’t reply, didn’t manage to make a word out of her mouth because after Sonny stopped speaking in the suggestive tone he was using she licked her lips, her full, pale pink lips and Sonny was gone.

He leaned forward and kissed her, a slow, small kiss that he regretted the moment he touched his lips to hers. So Sonny pulled back and nearly stopped breathing, nearly stopped everything because he expected Lola to look angry, livid, but she looked shocked.

“What was that, Dominick?” And his name rolled off of her tongue in just the right way, “What was that?” Why was she repeating herself? Lola never- only with victims, when they couldn’t hear her because they were too strangled by their trauma. So why was she?

_Oh._

Sonny had surprised her, caught the detective off guard, and he wanted to kiss her again but he was afraid if he did, she’d become the angry woman he pictured.

“That, Detective,” Sonny wondered how she wasn’t slurring his words because he had nearly three drinks himself and already feeling tipsy, “Was a kiss.”

Lola gave him _A Look_ , one that she reserved for when the suspects were clearly bullshitting him, before her hand threaded through the hair on the back of Sonny’s head and she pulled his head down to meet hers, the kiss she initiated much more heated than his simple brush of his lips against hers.

“That, Dominick,” Lola said, eyes nearly dazed and Sonny could assume his face looked the same, “Was a kiss. But, a better kiss.”

Sonny couldn’t deny that notion and, very suddenly, he was glad that he had taken the chance and invited Lola over for a nightcap. (Of course, they ended up in a compromising position, so tangled in the covers that it took them nearly five minutes to get to their phones, both ringing through migraines the next morning.)


	2. Stay Young and at the Top of Our Lungs (DOMINICK "SONNY" CARISI)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lola is glad that she isn’t interrogating. The man is sweating under Olivia’s gaze, Fin standing behind him with his arms crossed. She’s sick to her stomach but her face remains impassive, as always, as she stands next to Rafael in front of the window.

Lola is glad that she isn’t interrogating. The man is sweating under Olivia’s gaze, Fin standing behind him with his arms crossed. She’s sick to her stomach but her face remains impassive, as always, as she stands next to Rafael in front of the window.

“It makes me sick to watch this,” He mumbles, crossing his arms to mimic Lola and Fin’s stance, “I don’t know how you keep your cool in there.”  
  
“I don’t,” She says, her voice icy, “That’s why I’m not in there. I recused myself.” Rafael looks over, surprise written over his face as his eyebrows climb his forehead. “My brother asked that I do. Our mother was hospitalized when we were teenagers for schizophrenia.” She didn’t quarrel about telling Rafael because the whole squad knew, as they all knew her brother.

“I’m sorry,” But Lola just shrugs.

“It was my decision, my brother just went along with it. I’ve dealt with my demons, Rafael, but I’m still not putting myself in a room with a man like that.” Rafael seems to nod in understanding as Lola takes a step back, dropping her chin to her chest. She’s burning from the inside out, like an undercooked hot pocket. With a sigh and not another word to Rafael, Lola turns and marches away. Nobody is in the bullpen, perfect for her to brace herself on her desk, breath in deeply and hold the breath in her lungs. She’s trying not to think of her mother, nor her brother, and how she hadn’t visited either of them in nearly three years.

When the elevator dinged, signalling the arrival of someone, Lola lets her breath out and rights her back. She turns to the man walking toward her and lets a smile slip, happiness breaking through her demeanor but then her face closes back down, the cracks sealing up. Dominick sighs and wraps an arm around her, kissing her forehead when he’s sure that nobody is looking.

“How are you doing?” He asks, voice low so nobody can hear him. Lola shrugs and takes a step back, uncomfortable with the amount of affection her boyfriend is showing her inside of their workplace. She frowns then, too, when Dominick does because he knows that the case they are working is hard, but he doesn’t think that Lola doesn’t want forehead kisses.

Lola loves forehead kisses.

“I think I’m going to visit my brother,” She says, words being pulled slowly from her mouth, “My mother, too maybe. It’s been far too long.” And she won’t say just how long for fear of being called a bad daughter, but maybe that’s what she is. Dominick can feel the guilt rolling off of her and he tries to quell it with a hand on her shoulder. “I have enough to leave to do it.”

“Maybe you should invite your brother here. Show him New York.” He shrugs, “I’m sure he’d love that.”  
  
“Obviously,” Lola lets her guard down for a minute more, smiling at her other half, “But Spencer isn’t fond of people, less fond of the mess New York is. Besides, his caseload is heavier than ours. He wouldn’t have time.” Dominick bends and kisses Lola before heading to his desk, taking case files from Rafael’s office out of his bag, sitting down and kicking up his feet to go over them. Lola isn’t sure what to do- she feels like calling her brother, but isn’t sure if he would want to speak with her.

Either way, she makes her way to the break room and buys a water from the vending machine, collapsing in the chair and laying her head against  the table. Even though she is supposed to be stoic, the one who never broke focus on the team, the case was scrambling her brain. If Lola wasn’t so professional, she would have asked Dominick to a closet somewhere to blow of steam, but she hadn’t done something like that since her early college years.

With a rough chuckle, Lola feels the urge for a smoke burn deep in her throat, but she brushes it off in favor of observing the interrogation once more, standing silently next to Rafael.

He’s surprised to see her there.

“I would have thought that you would chased another case by now, Breann.” He said, trying to sound casual but failing. She’s aware that Rafael was more than interested in her, but Lola wasn’t sure how to squelch that.

“Rafael, I’ve asked you multiple times to call me Lola. The uniforms have everything under control; this is the only case that needs the hand of detectives.” There’s an outburst in the interrogation room, Fin stepping forward to wrestle the suspect to the table, reminding him that anything he says is admissible, and that assaulting an officer gets him time.

Lola sighs and Rafael speaks, “I don’t understand why he won’t confess. We have enough to prosecute without his confession.”  
  
“But a confession makes it all the easier.”  
  
“Yes, it does. If this takes any longer, we’re going to have to stop trying.” Lola takes a moment to look over at Rafael with a quirked brow.

“The great Rafael Barba, talking about giving up?” She smirked, “The world must be ending.” They shared a friendly chuckle before Dominick approaches, leaning against the glass on the other side of Lola.

“Yeah,” He chuckles, “Didn’t you hear? It’s raining fire in Yellowstone, California is just gone. They say it’s locusts in New York next.” And the trio laughs like they’re not listening to a man confess to raping a woman who didn’t have the mental capacity to say no, let alone fight him off. But they are, and it sobers them in a heartbeat. Lola sighs once more, rubbing a hand over her face.

“It has been a long day.”  
  
“Go home,” Dominick offers it up like she could actually go home before midnight when Olivia was still riding the man’s back, trying to get a confession.

“Olivia wouldn’t let me do that, Dominick. You know this.” Rafael watches in silence as he tries to identify what was happening between the duo of detectives as they hadn’t been so friendly to each other in all of the time he had worked with SVU. In fact, the most friendly he had seen Lola Breann be with anyone was Olivia and that’s only because they knew each other prior to Lola’s employment.

Lola wonders what the look Rafael gives her means, but she brushes it off as her phone chimes in her pockets. She apologizes and steps away, barely checking the caller ID before answering.

“Lola,” It’s two syllables, but the voice rings familiar in her head and she almost smiles. Almost.

“Spencer. I was just thinking about calling you.” She finds an empty conference room and collapses into one of the chairs, “Have you been to see Mom lately?” Her brother sighs and she can hear him leaning back in his chair.

“Not lately. Have you made it out?”  
  
“I’m farther away than you are, Spencer. I don’t have the leisure of as many sick days as you’ve accumulated.” The door to the conference room opens and Dominick steps through, barely remembering to shut it behind him.

“That’s what I’m calling about.” Her attention is fully drawn, even when her boyfriend lays a hand on her thigh as he sits in the chair next to her, “I’m thinking about coming to visit you. Maybe you can take some leave after and we can fly out to see Mom.” Spencer’s plans coincided with what she had been thinking perfectly, but Lola frowns, shaking her head.

“You don’t have to come to New York. I know you don’t like it here.” Dominick squeezes her thigh, shifting in his seat and she lolls her head to smile at him in the way that let him know she appreciated his gentle touches, “Anyways, my apartment is trashed and unlivable right now.”  
  
Automatically her brother perks up, “What happened?” His voice is hardened and Lola can hear one of his coworkers ask if he’s alright in the background, “Are you okay?”  
  
“Spencer,” She sighs, tipping her head back in exasperation, “I’m just… Adding another body. A roommate.” Lola knows that’s going to rub Dominick the wrong way, but she needed to get Spencer off of her back. She wants to tell him in person. Her boyfriend takes his hand from her body and shifts away from her, a frown pulling at his lips.

“You can still afford to live in New York, right? I can send you some money, Lola. All you have to do is ask.”  
  
“I don’t need money. I can support myself. Look, Spence, I’m at work right now, can I call you back?” She doesn’t wait for an answer and ends the call, turning to catch Dominick’s wrist before he can stand and flee the room, “Stop.” It’s not an order, but not a suggestion either, “I know you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.” He says, turning in his chair to look at Lola. His voice is hard and her stomach drops when she realizes it might be the first time in their short relationship that he’s angry with her, “I’m just fine.”

Her stomach sank and she let him go, watching as he stomped from the room. She sighed and put her head in her hands, kicking herself for fucking up a relationship that was barely blooming at four months. When she stands the chair she was sitting in tips over but she doesn’t pick it up. Instead she slammed the door on her way out and asked to go home early.

“You’ll just have to tough it out, Lola. I need paperwork done.”

* * *

By the time she drags herself through the door, arm aching and throbbing from the paperwork, Lola expects Dominick’s things to be gone.

Surprisingly, everything is how she left it this morning. Even Dominick is there, perched on the couch with a carton of chinese food, eyes on their small television. He doesn’t look up as she shuts the door, shedding her coat and dropping her bag by the door.

“Dom?” Lola curses herself when her voice loses its hard edge halfway through the syllable and takes on a soft tone, but she doesn’t let her cringe become outward. “I’m home.” He doesn’t look at her.

“I know. How was work?” The casual lilt in his voice scares her, so she doesn’t dare step from the linoleum from the hallway to the carpet of the living room. “Even though I know, because we work together. But I am your roommate,” This time Lola does cringe because his words burn like battery acid, “And that’s what roommates ask.”

“Dominick,” Lola sighs, finally taking steps toward him. “Please, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” He stands up and tosses the empty carton onto the end table.

“Then please,” He turned to her, “Enlighten me on what you meant.” He throws his hip out and puts his hands on the band of his slacks. Lola tried to to explain what she meant but the only thing that comes out of her mouth is broken stutters. Dominick scoffs and pushes by her, not saying another word as he slams into the guest room.

“Dom, what are you doing?” She calls after him, staring at the door to the room they thought that they wouldn’t ever use. His voice is muffled through the wood.

“I’m staying in my room, you know, like roommates do!” The silence after his shout leaves Lola cold and afraid, though it doesn’t on her face. She keeps her work-mask on and sighs, shoulders drooping. A walk to the end table and she retrieves Dominick’s trash, tossing it in the bin before running two hands through her hair to tie it up. Everything seems wrong, like her life is spinning out of control.

It is, as far is she is concerned.

Suddenly, Lola’s clothing seems too hot, even though it’s one of Dominick’s dress shirts and skinny jeans so she struggles to shed them, leaving them in the doorway of the bedroom she used to share with her boyfriend. She found one of his Fordham Law t-shirts, slipping it over her head with her own basketball shorts. Maybe Dominick would feel better in the morning, so Lola crawled into bed and closed her eyes, trying not to show just how upset she was by the fight that she had found herself in.


End file.
